


Galatea

by Soap_Lady



Category: Wooden Overcoats
Genre: Alternate Continuity, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soap_Lady/pseuds/Soap_Lady
Summary: Mayor Desmond decides what Piffling needs is a beauty contest. An old school nemesis goads Antigone Funn into entering. With the help of Georgie and a not so secret sponsor, Antigone decides she just might have a chance.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prepare-to-die-obviously](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Prepare-to-die-obviously), [smilodonmeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilodonmeow/gifts).



> Hello!
> 
> This is my first foray into WO fic so I apologize in advance. Special thanks to smilodonmeow for her encouragement and Prepare-to-die-obviously for Britpicking this for me.
> 
> Sincerest apologies to the cast and crew of Wooden Overcoats.
> 
> For the sake of continuity, let's say this work takes place between Series 2 and Series 3 (Please let there be a Series 3)

                                                                                                                         Galatea

 

 

 

 

Italics and "*" are Madeline's narration.

 

_*Antigone Funn lives in her family's mortuary. She used to be all by herself. She isn't anymore.*_

  
                                                                                                                              ****

  
_*Mayor Desmond Desmond decided what Piffling Vale really needed to become town was a beauty contest.*_

 

"Towns have beauty contests you know," he confided to his secretary, Miss Georgie Crusoe.

  
"If you say so, Your Worship," she answered.

  
_*Georgie knew it was easier to answer him vaguely and without comment. She was sure he would have forgotten his latest mad plan by the end of the day._

  
_*Alas, before he could forget about it he mentioned the idea to Chapman and the vicar. They agreed that it was just what Piffling Vale needed.*_

 

"Brilliant!" declared Eric Chapman. "It's a capital idea. I'll have my secretary draw up some fliers and we'll pass them out door to door."

  
_*The vicar and the mayor made hasty excuses as to why they couldn't help spread the word about the contest (although it was the mayor's idea) and Chapman was left to soldier on alone._  
_Hello, Madeleine again. I'm sure my regular readers must be wondering how I could possibly know all this. Well, I've recruited a few of the local squirrels to report for me, in exchange for editing a volume of squirrel mythos. I do hate outsourcing, but it allows my readers to form a more complete picture of Piffling Vale. (Please pick up "Tales of Father Acorn" when it comes out this spring.)_

  
_*Eric decided the first person he wanted to recruit was now starting her afternoon shift at Funn Funerals.*_

  
"Come now, Georgie," Chapman cajoled. "You're a shoo-in to win this contest. What with your winning personality, poise..." Eric looked her over and sighed to himself. "Simmering animal magnetism..."

  
_*Georgie was busy dusting the front parlor while Rudyard Funn went over the books, occasionally weeping and grinding his teeth in frustration. I'd found lemon drop stuck to Georgie's trouser cuffs and was contentedly nibbling on it in Rudyard's pocket.*_

  
"Not interested," Georgie purposely sent up a huge cloud of dust that had both men coughing and red-faced. She turned away from Chapman and addressed him over her shoulder. "Besides, you've got to have a lot of money to enter a contest. Money for dresses, time to practice, entry fee..."

  
"Nonsense! You could get a local business to sponsor you and..."

  
"Like who?" Georgie cut him off. "Rudyard and Antigone can barely afford jam; much less afford to sponsor me. Any other business is bound to enter its own contestant and you're ineligible."

  
"Wh-"

  
"You're a judge," Georgie reminded him sternly. "Conflict of interest, remember?"

"Leave, Chapman," Rudyard said finally. "Georgie's not interested."

  
"Not now, Rudyard-"

  
"She already said no," Rudyard Funn reminded him. Muttering under his breath he added, "You just don't get when you're not wanted, do you."

  
_*Eric Chapman opened his mouth to retort when the door to the funeral home opened and a beautiful woman strolled inside. In her elegant hands, she gingerly held a piece of paper.*_

  
The lovely stranger looked Eric over as one would a fresh batch of chocolate truffles.* "You must be this Eric Chapman Mother's told me so much about." She held up the flyer. "What's this about a beauty contest?"

  
_*It was Lady Templar's daughter, Emily. She, Antigone, and Rudyard had been in the same year together, to Antigone's dismay. The younger Templar had made it her mission to make Antigone's school life unbearable. After leaving Piffling Vale, she had been discovered by a modeling agency and started a small clothing line. She'd even been romantically linked to a footballer. You know the one.*_

  
Eric Chapman's natural charm took over and he kissed Emily's hand. "Yes, indeed! You must be young Emily. Your mother's told me all about you." He laughed easily and Rudyard rolled his eyes. "I see she didn't exaggerate about your beauty."

  
Young Lady Templar laughed but it wasn't nearly as charming as her looks. Chapman even winced at it. "Well, I'm surprised she didn't. You know how mothers are." She looked about the parlor. "Good lord! This place is positively dismal. I didn't think Funn Funerals could get any worse." She sniffed disdainfully. "It's so rare that I'm wrong."

  
_*Rudyard had tried to ignore his former classmate but could no longer do so. He cast his pen aside and stood up.*_

  
"Now, look here! Funn Funerals has always put the body in the coffin in the ground on time. Anything else is just...window dressing."

  
"And that's why Chapman's is putting this horrid mausoleum out of business, or so Mother tells me." Emily gave Eric a flirtatious smile and continued. "I was in town visiting Mother when the mayor called and told her about this...adorable little beauty contest you're holding. Naturally having a professional beauty such as me competing would add just the right touch of class it needs."

  
"Yeah, why are you visiting?" Georgie interjected. The rich snob with the horsy laugh was dangerously close to meeting her fists. "Didn't I read in the tabloids about a rich bloke who dumped you and went back to his wife?"

  
"I wanted to see Mother of course," Emily huffed, "and catch up on old classmates." She spared Rudyard a glance. "How's old Heidi, Rudyard? Has she raised an army of undead yet?"

  
"Heidi?" Eric asked, confused. He didn't remember anyone mentioning someone in Piffling named Heidi.

  
"Antigone," Emily corrected herself. "The poor dear always smelled of formaldehyde so I started calling her 'Formaldeheidi' and finally just 'Heidi,'" She laughed again and suddenly Eric found her much less appealing.

"Really, Emily-"

  
"Now look here-"

"Hold on a minute-"

  
"Georgie, could you help me-"

  
*Antigone Funn had made her way out of the mortuary and froze when she saw the two visitors to the funeral home. Her eyes widened when she recognized her old schoolgirl tormentor. The poor dear tried to disappear back into the shadows but it was too late.*

  
"Heidi! No...No...Antigone!" Emily laughed and strode forward, embracing a very shocked Antigone Funn. "It's been ages, you poor dear. I thought you were dead."

  
"E-Emily," Antigone stuttered. "I thought you said you'd never come back to Piffling Vale."

  
"Oh, I'm just visiting, you silly goose." Emily laughed and Rudyard desperately wished he could afford aspirin. She held out the flyer to the surprised mortician. Antigone took it without thinking.

  
"'First Annual Miss Piffling Vale Beauty Contest'?" Antigone read aloud.

  
"Yes, isn't it a lark?" Emily giggled. "Imagine! This poor old village would have to scrape the bottom of the barrel to get as much as three contestants for a farce like this." She looked Antigone over, taking in the pale skin, lank hair and shabby dress. "Perhaps you should enter, Antigone."

  
"Me?" Antigone squeaked.

  
"Her?" Chapman and Rudyard said the word together and were glared into mumbling apologies by Georgie.

"Why not? With a munter contest like this, even you might have a decent chance."

  
_*Emily laughed again and even I was tempted to bite the woman, creative integrity be damned. I was saved from a nasty taste in my mouth by Georgie, who decided now was the perfect time to start dusting._

_Vigorously.*_

  
The unwanted visitor coughed and sputtered. "Well, best of luck, Heidi. Of course, third runner-up is still a win, of a sort. I'll be entering, naturally. Piffling Vale could use a bit of homegrown beauty. Coming, Eric?" She asked Chapman.

  
Eric smiled, but it seemed a bit dim. "Why don't you pop across the Square to my place and order a latte. I'll be along in a minute."

  
"Oh, very well," Emily seemed a bit disappointed Eric wasn't quite the easy mark she thought. She made a grand exit out the door. "Farewell, Funns!"

  
The door slammed behind her and Rudyard sighed. "Still a terror, isn't she? Well, she won't be in town long, at least."

  
Everyone else ignored him. Poor sweet Antigone looked miserable and, dare I say, dangerously close to tears.

  
Georgie nudged Chapman and he passed Antigone a handkerchief. She took it and stared at it.

  
"So that was Evil Emily, was it? She brays like Mister Crumble," Georgie muttered. Eric nearly laughed but stopped himself when he saw how miserable Antigone looked.

  
"Now...now don't let her upset you, Antigone," Chapman tried to be cheerful. "The contest is in two weeks and after that I'm sure Miss Templar will be gone again. You just ignore all this beauty contest talk and-"

  
_*Antigone sniffled and twisted the hateful flyer in her hands. She was wracked with memories of Emily's cruel torments and began to shake as years of ill-treatment nearly overwhelmed her.*_

  
"It's not like Funn Funerals can afford to sponsor her, even if she had a decent chance." Rudyard sighed as he returned to his bookkeeping.

  
"Well, Chapman's could...but...ah...as a judge I must be objective and-"

  
_*The memories of childhood and then adolescent bullying finally did poor Antigone's emotional state in and she burst into tears as she fled into to comforting darkness of her mortuary.*_

  
"Antigone!" Georgie cried out and tried to follow her but found the entrance locked.

  
Eric had the grace to look ashamed but Rudyard sighed and closed his book of records. "I'm never getting any work done now, am I?"

  
"Rudyard! Your sister is upset! Shouldn't you try to reassure your only remaining family or something?"

  
"Of what?" Rudyard shot back. "That she should enter a contest she can't win? That we can afford to sponsor her? Ha! Besides, aren't you the one that everyone loves? Why didn't you use your famous charm to make her feel better?"

  
"Well..."

  
_*Georgie stomped back up the stairs and glared at the two men who had let Antigone Funn down. The look on her face was deadly.*_

  
"You two have approximately fifteen seconds to leave before I thrash the both of you."

  
Georgie's ginger hair shone like a firebrand and both men took an involuntary step back. "I'm great at thrashing people."

  
_*Needing no further prompting, the two men fled Funn Funerals, leaving Georgie to search for some tools to pick the lock to Antigone's mortuary._

  
_It was yet another skill Georgie was great at.*_

 

 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antigone decides to shape herself into who she wants to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the usual suspects yet again. Apologies to the cast and crew.

                                                                                                                Galatea, Part Two

 

_*Georgie easily picked the lock on the mortuary door and opened it. I had leaped out of Rudyard's pocket before he was shooed out the door. Don't get me wrong: I'm very fond of Rudyard but Georgie was bound to be the more interesting subject at the moment. Besides, poor Antigone was horribly upset and shouldn't be left to wallow in despair. Well, not if it could be helped.*_

  
"Antigone?" Georgie knocked on the open door. "May I come down, please?"

  
"If-if you must."

  
"I might do, yeah," Georgie answered and made her way down the stairs.

  
_*There among the jars of formaldehyde and odd bits of preserved tissues, Georgie found Antigone curled in on herself in a corner, crying as if her heart would break.*_

  
Georgie squatted beside her employer and asked softly, "Want to talk about it?"

  
"If I say no, will you respect my wishes and go away?"

  
"No."

  
"Then by all means let's talk." Antigone wiped her eyes and sat up. Georgie handed her Chapman's handkerchief and the mortician blew her nose and tucked it away. "That woman...Emily?"

  
"Yeah."

  
"She made it her mission to make my life even more miserable. She mocked me and encouraged her friends to do the same. She made sure I hadn't ally among the teaching staff. She made me feel even uglier and more unwanted than I already was..."

  
"And now she's done it in front of Chapman," Georgie pointed out.

  
Antigone scowled. "Now twist the knife counterclockwise, why don't you?"

  
Georgie shrugged. "Don't know why you care what he thinks. Or some bint from school. Besides, her nose has been done, her teeth are capped, and her fake breasts are lopsided."

  
Antigone laughed her high, nervous laugh. "And here I thought I was the only one who noticed."

  
Georgie looked her over. "You know what? It would serve her right if you entered that contest and rubbed your win in her collagen-filled face."

  
Antigone didn't look convinced so Georgie tried a different tack. "You know...it's also a talent competition..."

  
Antigone raised her head. "Really?"

  
She finally sounded excited so Georgie went on. "You like that theatre stuff, yeah? Well...recite something. From Shakespeare. Everyone loves Shakespeare. And you won't even be nervous, yeah? Because it's not you up there, it's a character."

  
Antigone considered it. "I could, yes. I've always wanted to try out for community theatre. Father always said no..."

 

"But not a sonnet or 'Romeo and Juliet'. Everyone does that."

  
"Something more challenging but not quite 'Titus Andronicus'."

"Sure."

"Macbeth?"

  
Georgie shrugged. "Why not? It's dark and gloomy. Sounds perfect."

  
_*Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Antigone was clearly considering Georgie's suggestion but wasn't quite convinced. I rather liked the idea of Antigone Funn being a beauty queen. Not only would it be a heartwarming new chapter for my book, Antigone really was a lovely person when she showed her face. I know that as an author I should be more objective but...sod it. Antigone deserved a bit of the limelight for herself.*_

  
Georgie decided to ask, "How'd you end up with a name like Antigone?"

  
Antigone tried to tidy herself up a bit. "Oh. Well. She was the heroine of a Greek tragedy."

  
"Wasn't she also a princess?"

  
Antigone looked surprised and Georgie flushed but went on. "I went to school too. She was the princess of Thebes or something, wasn't she? Well, my girl," Georgie reached forward and gently grabbed Antigone's shoulder. "You should remember that. Emily Templar's a commoner with a nose job. You're a princess. Act like one."

  
Antigone laughed her short high laugh. "Why, Georgie why stop at princess? Why I could be..." she posed with exaggerated drama. "...a goddess!"

  
"Now you've got it!" Georgie nodded her approval. "One of those moon goddesses. Artemis I think. Too good for the likes of Emily or Chapman."

  
Antigone's pale face shone and then faltered. "Georgie...really...do you think I can do this?"

Georgie looked her over and smiled encouragingly. "Why not? You mastered the basics of flirting in three hours. Being a beauty queen will be a piece of cake."

  
                                                                                                                          *****

  
_*The next morning Rudyard had a lie-in while Antigone walked the front room, practicing what she and Georgie had dubbed her "goddess walk". Georgie swept in to see her before beginning her morning shift with the mayor. In her hands, she held a vellum envelope. On the front was Antigone's name in a fancy script.*_

  
Georgie held it out for Antigone to see. "I found this on the front porch. I don't recognize the handwriting, do you?"

  
_*Antigone took the envelope. It was bulky and when she opened it, she found...*_

  
"There must be two thousand pounds here!" she exclaimed.

  
_*Two thousand two hundred and fifty pence, to be precise. Half of it was in small bills and the rest were rather large. There was also a letter, which Antigone was kind enough to read aloud:*_

  
_*Dearest Antigone,_

  
_Village gossip has it you plan to enter the beauty contest being organized by Mayor Desmond. Now everyone knows beauty contests are expensive so I took it upon myself to take up a collection to help. I only wish I could do more. I look forward to seeing you take the crown._

  
_Sincerely,_

  
_A Friend*_

  
Antigone and Georgie looked at each other and said a name with resigned irritation.

  
"Chapman!"

  
"'S'not his handwriting," Georgie said as she examined the letter, "but it's the kind of thing he'd do. His idea of benevolence and charity no doubt."

  
"He can't show bias so he probably persuaded one of his admirers to write this for him," Antigone grumbled. "I've half a mind to march across the square and throw this money in his handsome face!"

  
"What-"

  
"Nothing shut up." Georgie snickered but Antigone ignored her. "Instead, I'm going to use this money to show Piffling Vale what I'm capable of! Good-bye, Heidi, hello Hecate!"

  
"Hecate?" Georgie frowned. "Name doesn't ring a bell."

  
"Greek Goddess of magic, crossroads, ghosts and sorcery."

  
"Sounds perfect for you."

  
"Yes, I know," Antigone gave Georgie a rare smile. "But she also shows up in Macbeth and has a lovely soliloquy. I thought I'd do that."

  
Georgie shrugged. "Sounds better than Lady Macbeth talking about damned spots."

  
Antigone nodded and then stopped. "Georgie...can I really do this?"

  
The ginger assistant looked her over. "I wouldn't be helping you if I thought you couldn't. You just need a bit of care. Don't worry," she assured her employer. "I'm great at makeovers. But first, you're going to need a few new clothes."

Antigone frowned. "I thought you were due at the mayor's at nine o'clock."

  
"Yeah. I am. But I'll tell him I need to run some errands at lunchtime and that he should use that time to go see the vicar. Maybe have a picnic. Romantic."

  
The mortician reached out and impulsively squeezed her employee and possible friend's shoulder. "I can't thank you enough, Georgie. I'll put myself in your hands. But...can we pull this all together in two weeks?"

  
Georgie took the money from the envelope, and counted out fifty pounds for Antigone. "Get yourself a few groceries and leave the rest to me." She gave the nervous woman a gentle pat on the shoulder. "You can do this. Just keep practicing."

  
                                                                                                                                            *****

  
_*Georgie treated herself to a two-hour lunch while Mayor Desmond treated his vicar boyfriend to a romantic picnic on the shores of Chapman Lake. During that time, she bought the necessary cosmetics from Piffling Market and then made her way to Piffling Vale's only high-end consignment shop, Fantastic Fripperies._

  
_Once there she haggled with the proprietor, one Belinda Dickens, for a navy silk evening gown with a matching wrap and covered in spangles. She also found a lovely cocktail dress that just needed hemming and a Grecian style green dress that had been all the rage a few years ago. Georgie had quite a bit of cash left over and found a nearly new dark grey frock in Antigone's size and a blouse and some trousers as well.*_   
_*After her two shifts she made her way back to Antigone's mortuary and began the arduous but not impossible task of turning the shy twin into a beautiful goddess. One spa day, extreme exfoliation, and three bottles of detangler later, Miss Antigone Funn looked less like the Grim Reaper's daughter and more like a Gothic heroine with the vapors.*_

Georgie Crusoe stared at her work in approval. "There. That's done it. I think you're ready, me lass."

  
_*And that is where I will leave you for now. I wish I could say it's because I'm trying to build suspense but actually it's because it's late and I need some sleep if I'm going to be of any use at the pageant tomorrow. Good-bye!*_

 

 


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big night finally arrives! Will Antigone win? Will someone cock things up? Will Georgie attack? Find out in the conclusion. Happy Christmas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last bit of this silliness. I've tried to have the story read like an episode. Let me know how far I'm off the mark.

                                                                                                                         Galatea Part III

 

_*The day of the beauty contest had finally arrived. I was incredibly excited for Antigone. She had worked very hard practicing her walk and her soliloquy and I was very proud of her. Not to mention this would be a most exciting and heartwarming chapter of my book, “More Memoirs of a Funeral House Mouse”. I couldn’t wait._

_Unfortunately, Rudyard, who up until today had been stubbornly silent, decided to block Antigone and Georgie when they tried to leave for the contest.*_

Rudyard Funn stood in the doorway of the funeral home he shared with his sister. He crossed his arms and tried to look imposing. “You’re not going, Antigone. I’m putting my foot down as the elder.”

“What, sir, you’re not even going to say how nice your sister looks today?” Georgie pointed out.

_*Antigone looked more than just nice. She looked glorious. Georgie had outdone herself; Antigone’s usually lank hair had been curled into ringlets and then gathered into an elegant up do. A silver headband with moons and stars contrasted nicely with her dark hair. Antigone looked just like the goddess she aspired to be and never looked lovelier.*_

Rudyard barely glanced at his twin. “Yes, yes, very nice. I’m glad to see you finally did something different with your hair. But I forbid you from participating in this…frivolous waste of time.” Rudyard tried to make himself look taller. “You’ll make a spectacle of yourself.”

Georgie strode forward and hissed in his ear. “Do you have any idea how hard she’s worked for the past fortnight?”

“She's going to be laughed at and it's best for everyone if that doesn't happen,” Rudyard whispered back. To his sister he said, “Now, be reasonable, Antigone. I am older and more responsible and I’m forbidding you from participating in this silly pageant.”

_*Antigone flinched and Georgie looked angry. Things were very tense for a few minutes until Antigone lifted her chin and stared down her brother until he began to shake. When she spoke, it was as if Hecate herself spoke through Antigone Funn.*_

“Move, Rudyard.”

Rudyard tried once last time to rein in his sister. “Now, look here, Antigone-”

“That wasn’t a request,” Antigone’s voice was the most commanding it had ever been in her life. “Move, Rudyard, before I have Georgie move you.”

Georgie cracked her knuckles. Rudyard quailed and moved aside. Antigone nodded at him as she passed and glided out the door. I had just enough time to sneak into Georgie’s handbag before they departed.

Rudyard tried one last time. “Don‘t come home crying when you see I‘m right!”

_*Antigone and Georgie didn’t even pause.*_

 

                                                                                                                            *****

 

_*The town hall was buzzing with excitement. Twelve more hopefuls crowded into makeshift dressing rooms. As the odd woman out, she had her own dressing room. This was perfect, because Georgie wanted Antigone’s entry in the contest to be a surprise._

_Georgie freshened Antigone’s makeup and hung the garment bag in the closet. Antigone fidgeted and took deep breaths to try to calm herself. From down the hall we heard Emily Templar screeching about the…accommodations.*_

“Where is my designer water? Where is my personal assistant? I thought I’d have a private room…”

“Tune her out, “Georgie advised as she applied more hairspray to Antigone’s coiffure. “She’s a spoiled, aging diva. “The judges won’t like a selfish brat like her.”

“I am a goddess. I am noble. I rule the night. I am Hecate,” Antigone murmured to herself. She repeated it ten more times before she finally calmed down and regained her stately façade. She stood and squared her shoulders like a military commander about to go into battle.

“Let’s go, Georgie.”

“Right, milady,” Georgie gave her a cheeky salute and followed her out.

_*All the other contestants, sans Miss Templar, lined up to greet the judges. There were the lovely Tanya and Jennifer Delacroix from Piffling FM, two women who worked for the post office and a smattering of others I only knew in passing. All of them sized Antigone up as competition and everyone seemed impressed. No one seemed to recognize her as the co-owner of Funn Funerals. That was probably for the best.*_

Chapman's mouth was nearly slack with shock at Antigone's transformation. "Antigone? Is that really you? You look...I mean...,” he stammered to a halt and cleared his throat. "You look fantastic! I didn't think..." he trailed off as Georgie glared at him over Antigone's shoulder. "Good luck. Enjoy yourself."

  
"I shall," Antigone replied regally. She looked Chapman up and down once and then told him haughtily, "There was a compliment in there somewhere, Eric. Thank you." With that, she swept past him, Georgie in her wake.

  
_*Eric Chapman stared after her, gob smacked, until he saw me staring up at him, regained his senses, and sauntered off to the judge's table._

  
_All of the women lined up to do a little turn on the catwalk stage. Antigone was number thirteen, poor dear, but perhaps tonight it would be a lucky number.*_

  
Sid Marlowe was the emcee and took the stage. “Hello, ladies and gents and welcome to the First Annual Miss Piffling Vale Beauty Contest! Now it’s nearly time to see our lovely contestants!”

  
_*The crowd applauded wildly. Mister Marlowe waited until the furor died down before he continued.*_

  
“Sorry to disappoint you, but the judges have decided not to have a swimsuit competition.”

  
_*Loud, good-natured boos followed this announcement.*_

  
“And with no further ado, the beauties of Piffling!”

  
_*The women of Piffling did their turn about the stage one by one, some receiving more applause than others. Emily Templar strutted onstage in a bikini, despite the rules and received a fair number of catcalls for her trouble._

  
_Then we came to the important part…*_

  
“And last, but never least, sponsored by Funn Funerals, of all places…I’m not sure if I’m reading this right…Antigone Funn?”

  
_*Antigone strode across the stage and did a little turn at the end. She gazed over the crowd like a queen observing her territory. There were loud gasps of awe from the audience as they stared, transfixed, on their new deity.*_

  
Antigone made a beeline to Georgie as soon as she was offstage. “How was I?” Antigone asked breathlessly.

  
Georgie smiled. “Perfect. Utterly perfect.”

  
                                                                                                                  ****

  
Georgie helped Antigone out of her gown and into the waiting cocktail dress for the interview portion of the contest.

  
“Just remember what we practiced. Besides, it’s just this and the talent show and you’re home free.”

  
“Yes, thank you, Georgie.” Antigone repeated her goddess mantra a few more times as she watched the other contestants from back stage. Finally, it was her turn.

  
_*Antigone Funn stood before the microphone and squinted at the judges’ table. Eric lounged in his chair looking alert and interested. The mayor and the vicar were too busy making eyes at each other to notice her at first so she cleared her throat and waited expectantly.*_

  
“Good evening, Miss Funn,” Mayor Desmond said at last.

“Good evening, Your Worship,” Antigone answered graciously.

  
_*The mayor and the vicar seemed at bit nervous at this new goddess Antigone and I couldn’t blame them. It seemed as though she were judging them and not the other way ‘round. I supposed they thought she found them wanting.*_

  
“Er…Miss Funn,” the mayor continued, “what do you think we can do to make Piffling Vale great?”

  
_*Most of the assembled were expecting her to say something along the lines of the other contestants; that Piffling was already great and very nearly a town. They were not prepared for what she said next.*_

  
“Well,” she began, “I think the first thing we should do is…grow the population…” The audience reacted with surprise. Antigone’s hands shook a bit, but her voice did not. “Towns have larger populations than villages after all. We should consider a website for the village, an official website that shows the best Piffling has to offer. Our wonderful shops, the Piffling Market. Maybe some interesting historical facts.”

  
_*Now the audience murmured with approval. Antigone smiled a bit and finished with:*_

  
“And I think we should close one of the hospitals.”

  
_*Silence.*_

  
Before the mayor could sputter his outrage, Antigone quickly added, “Because it would be so much more useful as a training facility for doctors. It would allow them to get real world practical experience outside of a hospital setting. We could name it “The Chapman Training Facility.”

  
_*No one spoke for nearly a minute. The vicar and the mayor were scribbling something furiously on their scorecards while Eric shot Antigone a look of sympathy. Finally, a tired voice from the back shouted:*_

  
“Antigone, I think I love you right now!”

  
_*It was poor exhausted Doctor Henry Edgcombe. His comment broke the tension and the audience laughed as if Antigone had just told the funniest joke.*_

  
Antigone’s cheeks blushed a pale pink, the only sign she was embarrassed, and said calmly, "Thank you, Doctor Edgcombe but it would make Esther very jealous to hear you say that."

_*More laughter ensued and Antigone was finally allowed to leave the stage._

_Now came the talent competition. Tanya juggled while Miss Delacroix did an authentic fire dance and one of the women from the post office sang a bit of opera._

_Emily Templar, number seven, took the stage with aplomb, preparing to wow the judges and the crowd with some sort of spinning tassels routine. I’m sure it would have been very titillating, if it hadn’t been for what happened next._

_Just as Emily was beginning to spin, as it were, three young voices rang out from the rafters.*_

“Down with unrealistic standards of beauty!”

“Real women don’t need to mutilate themselves to be attractive!”

“Bullying does lasting psychological damage!”

* _All of a sudden, an eruption of what appeared to be marinara sauce cascaded out of the rafters and on to Emily Templar. It completely covered her, which is more than I can say about her costume.*_

“Oh! You right bastards!” Emily screeched. “This is it! I hate this stupid backwater of a village!”

“We’re very nearly a town!” the mayor replied.

“Sod off!” she told him and ran off stage, leaving a trail of crushed tomatoes and spices.

_*It took ten minutes to clean up the stage but I still say it was worth it to rid ourselves of that horrible woman._

_Five other contestants showed their talents and once again, it was Antigone’s turn._

_The olive green Grecian gown looked lovely on her and very appropriate, considering her soliloquy._

_I am very glad to say Antigone was the very embodiment of a queen; commanding, majestic, and, on the surface at least, utterly calm. The audience waited as one to hear her speak. No one moved. I don’t think they dared bring down her wrath._

_After a deep breath, she began.*_

**Have I not reason, beldams as you are,**  
**Saucy and overbold? How did you dare**  
**to trade and traffic with Macbeth**  
**In riddles and affairs of death;**  
**And I, the mistress of your charms…**

  
_*Antigone recited the entire soliloquy without a single mistake or pause. There was utter silence until Eric Chapman stood up and applauded. The rest of Piffling quickly followed suit. Antigone inclined her head and left the stage as imperialistic as she arrived.*_

                                                                                                                                                  ****

_*At last, time for crowning had arrived. When her name was called Antigone Funn rushed to the stage to accept her tiara and second runner-up sash. She finished right behind Tanya and Jennifer Delacroix, the new Miss Piffling Vale.*_

  
“I’ve always reported the news. I’ve never been the story!” Miss Delacroix exclaimed as she accepted her crown.

  
_*Once the crowd had dispersed and Sid Marlowe tried to get an interview with the winner, Antigone met Georgie back stage.*_

  
“Congratulations!” Georgie squeezed Antigone’s shoulder. “Did I say you could do it?” her smile faded and she pointed at someone trying to avoid Antigone’s sight. “You’ll never guess who showed up after the village hoodlums re-enacted ‘Carrie’ with that snobby bint.”

  
“Hullo, Antigone.”

  
“Rudyard?”

  
_*It was indeed Rudyard Funn, looking slightly apologetic. He cautiously approached his sister with a handful of wildflowers he’d picked on the way.*_

  
Antigone took the flowers and looked at her brother. “I’m surprised you showed up, considering your tirade earlier.”

  
Rudyard had the grace to look embarrassed. “Yes. Well. You showed me, didn’t you? Second runner-up. I think if the other two drop out you get to be Miss Piffling. In addition, great publicity for Funn Funerals! We have a beauty queen on our staff. Chapman doesn’t have that.”

  
Georgie sniffed the air. “Is that…tomato sauce?”

  
_*I glanced down at Rudyard. On the cuffs of his trousers was a telltale red spot.*_

  
Antigone’s eyes widened. “Rudyard! You didn’t!”

  
“Sabotage, eh?” Georgie grinned. “Why didn’t I think of that? Nice one, sir.”

  
Rudyard tried to look humble but just ended up looking pleased with himself. “Well…I can’t take the credit. I took a walk and somehow ended up at the bus stop. Your hoodlum friends were there. I told them about the contest and how your school nemesis was participating. The rest they did themselves.”

  
“That’s probably why the plan worked, sir.”

  
“Georgie!”

  
_*The trio began bickering. They were so engrossed in arguing they didn’t notice the approaching footsteps.*_

  
“That’s not the sort of thing you should admit to in front of a judge, you know.”

  
“Chapman!”

  
Eric Chapman smiled at Antigone. “That was a bit unnecessary, anyway. None of us was going to vote for her. We didn’t like her.”

  
“Is Lady Templar upset, you think?” Georgie wanted to know.

  
Eric laughed. “Oh no. She thought that little prank was hilarious. Apparently her daughter has worn out her welcome rather quickly.”

  
_*He waited expectantly and no one spoke for a few minutes. Then Antigone said;*_

  
“I suppose you’re waiting for a thank you for helping to raise funds.”

  
Chapman looked disappointed. “Oh. You worked it out.”

  
Georgie huffed and rolled her eyes. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it? You’re the only one who’d bother with this kind of ‘charity’.”

  
“So…who was your conspirator?” Antigone asked.

  
“Conspirator? Ah,” Chapman understood. “Well, as a judge, I couldn’t very well sponsor you myself, could I? I saw how you looked after Emily made her…unkind comments so I thought I’d give you a bit of help from the sidelines. I mentioned it to Herbert Cough and he and Mister Crumble made the rounds.”

“Hope you don’t mind, Miss Funn.”

  
* _Herbert Cough appeared beside Antigone. His suit was at least ten years out of date and his hair a bit thin, but in that moment, he seemed like a prince.*_

  
Herbert rubbed the back of his neck and gave Antigone a shy smile. “I put a few notes in, mostly Mister Crumble’s tips. Miss Doyle donated and so did the local hoodlums. Nice kids, really…”

  
“It wasn’t quite enough so I added a bit myself after I saw Herbert leave the envelope on your doorstep.” Eric finished.

  
Antigone ignored Chapman and gave Herbert a shy but sincere smile. “Thank you, Herbert. That was very generous of you.”

  
“Hey, one of the prizes for second runner-up is dinner for four at the country club,” Georgie spoke up. “Why don’t you come with us, Mister Cough?”

  
_*Antigone nodded in agreement, Rudyard shrugged and Herbert Cough looked surprised and pleased to be included._ *

  
“I’d be honored, Miss Crusoe,” Herbert gave Georgie a courtly bow, which made the young woman laugh and give the man a hug about the shoulders.

  
“Why don’t we all-” Chapman began but Rudyard pushed past them and said, “Well, Antigone has a lifetime ban but they can hardly refuse service to the third most beautiful woman in Piffling, can they?” When everyone stared at him, he added, “Besides, I’m starving, let’s go.”

  
_*The foursome departed for the Piffling Vale Country Club leaving a very shocked Eric Chapman in their wake. As I glanced over Rudyard’s shoulder, I noticed Eric looked lonely and bereft for the merest moment before his usual charming façade took over. It made me think that despite Chapman’s popularity, he didn’t have any real friends after all._

  
_Well, it’s his own fault, really.*_

 

 


End file.
